


A Study In Love

by cc tinslebee (Doitlikeagreaser)



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual Enjolras (hinted), Awkwardness, Background Combeferre/Courfeyrac, Combeferre Knows Everything, Demiromantic Enjolras (hinted), Doctor Joly, Enjolras Has Feelings, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Enjolras-centric, F/M, Gen, M/M, Minor Joly/Bossuet Laigle/Musichetta, Multi, Oblivious Enjolras, Pining Enjolras, enjolras/eponine friendship - Freeform, enjoltaire - Freeform, one-sided Eponine/Marius - Freeform, reference to Ice Age
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-20
Updated: 2019-08-20
Packaged: 2020-08-19 12:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doitlikeagreaser/pseuds/cc%20tinslebee
Summary: After a late meeting at the Musain and a brief talk with Éponine, Enjolras finds himself waking up in the middle of the night feeling strange.It's probably just a cold.





	A Study In Love

It was a normal day at the Cafe Musain for the members of the Les Amis de l’ABC. That evening’s vigorous planning for the revolution had left most of the Les Amis either exhausted or flat out drunk. Combeferre and Courfeyrac were still working hard on the organisation for the revolt that was still months in the process; Jehan had left an hour ago with some guy with a top hat; and Bahorel and Feuilly were among the ones drinking, often tempting Bossuet and Joly before they had go home to Musichetta. Marius had been tenderly nursing his wine while chatting here and there with Grantaire.

Grantaire was obviously drunk.

Enjolras, on the other hand, was exhausted. He quietly sat at a table in the corner and watched his drunken friends from afar. He had been watching one, rather loud, drunk for a while now without notice until a voice spoke up next to him.

“He’s such an idiot.”

It was Éponine Thénardier. A couple of weeks ago, Marius had introduced her to the Les Amis as his new friend (though some members of the group speculated otherwise). Éponine had been coming to the meetings ever since. Usually, she’d sit towards the back or with Marius and listen. As her presence at the Musain became more and more frequent, Enjolras had made the effort to talk to her more often. It started as talking about the other Les Amis and Marius, as well as her views on the Cause. The conversation between the two had grown more casual over time. Éponine had given Enjolras more insight on what it was like growing up in the poorer communities of France and he was able to talk about his vision for a better, more inclusive France. The pair had also discussed getting more rights for the women of France as a result of Enjolras’s rebellion (since that was an important part of the original French Revolution that Napoleon had erased when he had come into power).

Despite all the time he had been spending with her at the Musain after meeting, he had no idea what she was talking about now.

“I’m sorry?”

“Marius!” she elaborated. “He’s one of the sweetest men out there, but he’s so unbelievably oblivious!”

Enjolras only nodded and hummed in agreement.

“Unrequited love sucks,” Éponine continued. “I hate that I’ve fallen for him this hard. I thought I wouldn’t mind because he’s such a nice guy, but I hate that he makes me feel things and he’ll never realise it until it’s too late.”

Enjolras’s eyes darted from Éponine over to his drunken friends and then over to nothing in particular. 

“I can’t relate.”

She looked over at him skeptically. “Really?”

Enjolras looked back at her. “Really.”

She paused for a moment, searching for the right thing to say. “That’s okay. Not everyone falls in love, I guess. Some people find the right person and others are content with not having that type of relationship.”

He gave Éponine a small little smile. “Thanks, Éponine.”

Éponine smiled back and the two resumed watching their drunk friends doing their shenanigans. After a couple of moments of silence between them, Enjolras spoke up again.

“What’s it like?” he asked her. “The things you said Marius makes you feel?”

She looked back at him, surprised. “It's like… when you drink just the right amount of wine. You’re not quite drunk, but you feel a little dazed and a little happy, like you’re in some sort of sweet limbo when you’re with that person. And nothing else matters but what’s happening then and there. I suppose it’s like your revolution in a way. That euphoric sense with a hint of dread when you’ve coasted off that high and are no longer in that moment.”

Enjolras nodded. He still didn’t quite get it, but Éponine had painted a good enough picture for him to somewhat wrap his head around.

Soon enough, the other members of l’ABC left to go to their respective homes. Marius had to leave earlier so he could escort Éponine home. Courfeyrac and Combeferre had intended to pull an all nighter at the Musain, so they bid adieu to Enjolras and Grantaire as they had been the last to leave. 

“Can I walk you home?” Enjolras offered as Grantaire held the door open for him.

“Isn’t that a bit out of the way for you, Apollo?” Grantaire replied.

“Only a little,” Enjolras admitted. “But I wanted to make sure you got home safely. It is late, after all.”

“I wouldn’t worry about me if I were you, Enjolras. But I suppose it couldn’t hurt,” Grantaire accepted, his tired face forming a small smile.

So, Enjolras walked Grantaire home, which was conveniently rather close to the Musain. They made small, awkward conversation throughout the walk that was filled with long silences here and there. When they had reached Grantaire’s apartment, the pair mostly stood there, unsure of what to do and neither really willing to move or say anything. Until Grantaire had said “Well, this is me,” and Enjolras replied with a small “Yeah.” Grantaire then thanked him for walking him home, peppering in the fact that he really didn’t have to. Enjolras replied by saying it was really no problem. Then, Grantaire wished him a good night before entering his home. Enjolras walked home with a nice, light feeling in his chest. When the feeling fazed away, Enjolras couldn’t help but feel as though how his chest felt normally wasn’t right at all.

When he got himself into his own bed, he still couldn’t explain why he felt a little warm inside at the sight of Grantaire’s smile.

* * *

Enjolras shot up in bed. “There’s a problem.”

Something was off. He couldn’t quite tell what it was, but something was definitely wrong with him.

There was only one reasonable decision Enjolras could make at this hour.

And that was to bother Combeferee.

* * *

Enjolras knocked on the Cafe Musain’s door until someone came to the door. That someone just so happened to be a very exhausted Combeferre.

“For the love of god, Enjolras,” Combeferre scolded, “It’s not even two in the goddamn morning. What are you doing here?”

“I need your help, Combeferre,” Enjolras replied, breathlessly. “I’m afraid I’ve come down with something.”

“And why did you decide that you needed to bother me with it?”

“I figured you could get Joly to take a look at me.”

“Then why didn’t you go bother Joly?”

Enjolras shook his head and pushed his way past Combeferre and into the Cafe. 

Courfeyrac was laying on top of the Musain’s bar, groaning as he turned himself around. “Combeferre,” he whined. “Come back.”

“Not now, Courfeyrac,” Combeferre said. “ _ Someone  _ needs our help.”

“Someone--” Courfeyrac opened his eyes lazily. “Oh hey, Enjolras.”

* * *

Having just observed Enjolras’s eyes, Joly stepped away from the leader and red and the barstool on which he sat. “There doesn’t appear to be anything wrong with you, Enjolras. Are you sure you’re not okay?”

“Absolutely,” Enjolras asserted. “I woke up this morning out of nowhere with this weird feeling in my chest.”

“Okay,” replied Joly. “And what exactly was this feeling like?”

“It was like… My chest was heavy. But it was also sort of light. Like this feeling of lightness was so full that it felt almost too much for me.”

Combeferre smiled knowingly. “Oh, I know what you have. The L word.”

Courfeyrac’s smile widened. He nodded vigorously. “Yeah. Lepricey.”

Combeferre shook his head. “No, Courfeyrac. It’s four letters, it starts with L and ends with E.”

Courfeyrac pursed his lips, deep in thought. “Ohh! Lice!”

“No, Courfeyrac,” Joly sighed. “He’s talking about love.”

“Love?” Enjolras repeated.

Joly nodded. “That’s right, buddy.”

Enjolras looked around the room and then to Joly. “Is there a cure?”

Courfeyrac bit back a laugh.

Combeferre started, “Well, Enjolra--”

“Absolutely,” Joly interrupted.

“There is?” Enjolras announced, surprised.

“There is?” Combeferre added, skeptically.

“Naturally. Now listen carefully, Enjolras,” Joly answered. “All you have to do is go to the source of these feelings. No, not your chest. You need to confront the person who you think is making you feel these things and talk to them. Ask them if they’d like to go out to dinner or something.”   
  


“And you’re certain this will work, Joly?” Enjolras inquired.

“Sure,” Joly replied. “It can’t get any worse.”

“Then, thank you all,” Enjolras declared, standing up. “I’ll go and do that right now.”

“Right now?” Combeferre repeated. 

“Right now.”

Courfeyrac rubbed his eyes, sleepily. “But it’s almost three in the morning.”

But Enjolras was already out the door.

* * *

“I swear, who the hell wakes people up at three in the goddamn mor--”

The man had hardly been able to finish his sentence when he realised who it was that was knocking on his door.

“Enjolras.”

“Good morning, Grantaire.”

“It is morning, I’ll give you that,” Grantaire remarked. “Do you know what time it is?”

“I’m guessing it’s three in the goddamn morning,” Enjolras attempted to quip. 

Grantaire gave him an amused little smile in return. “So what’s got you all riled up, Apollo? We started the revolution earlier than expected?”

Enjolras shook his head. “No. I’m actually here to see you.”

“And why would you want to do a thing like that?”

“I…” Enjolras looked around as if the answer could be found by looking at anything but Grantaire. “I wanted to ask you if you’d like to go out to dinner sometime. With me, that is.”

Grantaire was taken aback to say the least. “I’m sorry?”

“I said--”

“I know what you said,” Grantaire clarified. “I just don’t know why you said it.”

“I think I’ve caught something.”

“You what?” Grantaire blurted. “What’s the problem, Enjolras?”

“What’s the problem? I don’t know, well, maybe I’m in love,” Enjolras admitted.

“Love?”

“I just can’t stop thinking about it, and I’ve never really felt this way before. And I just have this feeling in my chest that won’t go away--”

“Enjolras, wait. Slow down a bit, okay?” Grantaire advised. “I thought you were into Marius’s friend, Éponine?”

Normally, Enjolras’s blood would boil at the thought. No one has the right to assume that two people of the oppsoite sex are together just because they’re friendly. But for some reason--maybe it was the lack of sleep or maybe Joly was wrong and it could get worse--he couldn’t be angry at this moment.

“No,” Enjolras explained calmly. “Éponine’s my friend.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

They stood there for a while in silence and suddenly, Enjolras was back to earlier that night. 

“I suppose it wouldn’t hurt then,” Grantaire replied, trying to act cool.

“What wouldn’t hurt?”

“Us,” Grantaire responded, “Going out to dinner.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Enjolras smiled a little to himself. “Right. Good, I look forward to that then.”

Grantaire gave him a sleepy smile back. “Me too.”

Enjolras hardly even noticed he was staring at Grantaire’s smile when he snapped back to reality. “Oh, you probably want to go back to bed. We can talk about this in the morning. I’ll let you get some sleep.”

“I look forward to it,” Grantaire mused. “Goodnight, Apollo.”

“Goodnight, R.”

Enjolras wasn’t sure if it was the lack of sleep or the fact that he was already in too deep, but that was the first time he had ever been called Apollo and didn’t really mind.


End file.
